The Kyriakis Curse (17 page)

“I’m yours, Constantine. I belong to you. Take me!”

“Oh, I will. Over and over again.” He placed a hand on either side of her, his arms

holding him braced over her. Then he slammed into her, so hard, in fact, that she was sure if it weren’t for her shifter side, he’d tear her apart. Instead, she loved every minute of his branding and possessive lunges. In the morning, she’d be sore, but it would be worth all this passion from him.

Sarah clutched his shoulders and bucked her hips to meet his cock, moaning and

panting breathlessly. They moved together to the rhythm of her pounding heart. As a raging explosion burst inside her, she raked her fingers down his back.

Constantine threw his head back and howled, cock plunging wildly. When he looked

at her again, his eyes were an intense gray. He smirked. “You little hellcat.” Then his body shook over hers, and he sent a blast of gushing, warm come into her thirsty hole.

Sarah clung to him tightly. “Oh, God, you feel so good!”

He grunted, emptying his balls before collapsing into her open arms. She accepted his weight, her breathing still ragged, and buried her face deeply into his hair-roughened chest.

She could easily fall for this man, and that was the one thing she couldn’t afford to do. For now, she’d revel in the aftermath of what they’d just shared.

Closing her eyes, Sarah drifted off.

* * * * *

lovingly next to him would have made it difficult to sleep much longer anyway. Once again, his prick was hard as a rock. He needed to be inside her again.

He wondered what it would be like to slide between the soft cheeks of her rear. No,

he’d save that for later. There was plenty of time to claim that ass as soon as he’d had more of her delectable pussy.

His pussy.

Rolling Sarah over onto her back, he moved on top of her and eased his cock between

her already parted legs. Her cunt was still full of his seed from their last bout of fucking, helping to smooth the passage of his dick. Constantine felt a little guilty because this wasn’t the first time he’d awakened her. She needed her rest since they’d been fucking nonstop between brief rest periods, but he wanted her as much as her heat cycle drove her tonight.

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And it wasn’t quite over yet.

He had to keep her satisfied for the rest of the night or she’d be in agony from the insistent burning of her heat. As he moved gently within her, Sarah groaned, rousing from slumber.

“What are you doing?”

“I would have thought that’s obvious, mana mou. I’m reacquainting myself with my

pussy.” He dropped a light kiss on her lips.

She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Don’t you mean, my pussy?”

“No. Mine. You belong to me. Got it?”

“Oh, I remember now. So it stands to reason your cock belongs to me.” She clenched

her muscles around him, and he nearly went over right then and there.

“I suppose it does.”

“Mmm, this isn’t such a bad way to be woken up.” Sarah raised her hips, moving to

meet his dick. Her wet cunt held him like a tight fist. Constantine couldn’t get enough of this woman and didn’t think he ever would.

There were no more words as they held each other tight, grinding and undulating

against each other. The only sounds in the room were an occasional moan and sigh. This time when he finally came, his release was different, slower, but no less intense. His heart swelled with what sure felt a lot like love.

Was it possible? This was what he’d wanted all along, wasn’t it? Love had no rhyme or reason, after all. Was this how his father felt about his own lost love? His father!

Dammit.

Paris would arrive soon and bring a damper to what Constantine had just shared with

Sarah. Constantine needed more time alone with her. After having warned him off Sarah, Paris wouldn’t be pleased with Constantine’s direct disobedience and would probably want to send him away. Well, screw that. He couldn’t allow that to happen.

Constantine had to find a way to be alone with Sarah for just a little longer.

She shuddered underneath him with her own orgasm; then, to his surprise, she burst

into tears. Alarmed, he raised himself slightly on his elbows, cupped her face in his hands, and dropped kisses on her face and cheeks. “What’s wrong, mana mou? Why do you cry?”

“Because I didn’t know it could be like this, so beautiful. Each time is like a fabulous new journey.”

His heart filled at her admission. By God, he did love her! But he wouldn’t say the

words until he had her absolute surrender. Although she’d freely given her body to him, she was still withholding something. He had to have all of her, heart, body, and soul.

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“It will always be like this between us.” He took a deep breath. “I’d like to take you away from here. There’s so much I’d like to show you. We could go to Crete, or Moscow, Paris, London, Milan. You name it, and we’ll go.”

A look of uncertainty crossed her face. “I don’t know.”

He kissed her love-swollen lips, silencing her protests, and felt his cock stir again. “Just say yes. You’ve spent so much of your life running, now it’s time to spend some of it living.

Imagine making love under the stars as the sun sets over the Champs-Élysées.”

Her eyes sparkled slightly, a glint of interest entering them, as she wiggled her hips against him. “That sounds lovely. I’ve never seen the Louvre, either.”

“Ah, the artist in you?”

“Yes. And maybe Rome. I’d love to see the Sistine Chapel.”

“Then you will.”

She sighed. “This all seems like a dream I’ll wake up from any moment.”

“It’s not a dream, mana mou. Anything you want, I’ll do whatever it takes for you to have it.”

“I think I believe you.” She looked amused, her eyes gleaming..

“You’d better, because it’s true.” He thrust slowly into her tight channel.

Sarah placed her soft palm against his cheek. “You’re my knight in shining armor.”

Her declaration was a start, but he wanted to be more to her than a convenient rescuer.

Much more.

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Paris was livid. It was bad enough his flight had been delayed due to inclement

weather, causing him to layover in London, but to find his son and Sarah gone with only a note saying they’d be back in a few days was the final straw. He grabbed the sheet and stared at it, still not believing his son’s audacity.

Papa, Sarah and I will be gone for few days. I know this goes against your wishes, but I cannot obey your command regarding her. Sarah belongs to me. We’ll speak more on this when I return. Constan ine

t

Crumbling the letter in frustration, Paris threw it across the room. He should have

known this would happen, should have seen that his cub’s lust for the half-breed was too strong to resist. How could his son deny his attraction for Sarah, when she had eyes of a warm, dark, molten brown that appeared to be mirrors to her soul? Just like her mother’s, in fact.

Paris paced the length of the living room and sighed. “Zahara, I’ve failed you again.”

He thought back to the night he’d fallen in love with his African beauty. She’d been standing on the beach of his family’s island, a bright orange wrap fashioned around her body.

The sarong style had emphasized the dark loveliness of her skin. Her hair had been loose, flying past her well-rounded ass. His cock had instantly hardened at the mere sight of her...

Zahara’s face was upturned, facing the moon. On silent feet, he approached her,

although he knew she’d soon catch his scent. When he saw her visibly stiffen, sadness ripped through him; he didn’t want her to fear him. But just as quickly as that emotion came, it was replaced by anger.

She turned to face him, gasping as she looked into his eyes. “What have I done this

time?” she’d asked warily, her Greek thick and heavily accented.

His eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

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Zahara turned her back to him. “I think you know. These past weeks I’ve been with

your pack, you... how do you say... I wish I had spent more time practicing your tongue.” She was obviously flustered, so he switched to Akan, the language of her people, then specifically to her family’s dialect, Twi.

“Would you be more comfortable speaking your language?”

Her eyes lit up for only the second time in his presence. “You speak my tongue so

well.” The smile she gave him had his heart doing somersaults.

“I figured it would come in handy. Languages are one of my strong suits, I guess.”

“I-I’m afraid I’m not very good at them. English and French are the only other

languages I’m proficient in. I apologize for having butchered Greek so badly. Mama says I’m hopeless.” The last bit was said with a hint of sadness.

Paris suddenly felt his anger flare again, but this time it was directed toward the

Nkruma alpha for being so thoughtless as to say something like that to her obviously sensitive cub.

“I wouldn’t say you’re hopeless. I think you’re quite beautiful. We’ll make good-

looking cubs.”

She shrugged, as though that consideration was the furthest thing from her mind. “I

guess.”

His eyes narrowed. He’d never been dismissed so casually by any bitch before. “It’s

inevitable that you’ll have my cubs, you know.”

Again she shrugged. “I’m aware of that, but I... You’ve traveled all over the world, haven’t you?”

Paris wondered what that had to do with anything, but this was the most she’d said to him since her arrival on Circe. “Yes. There aren’t a lot of places I haven’t seen.”

A thoughtful expression crossed her face. “I’d hoped...”

“What? You can tell me.” He tried his best to reassure her but he could still see the tension that was holding her body stiff.

“Can I really?” Large dark eyes looked at him uncertainly.

“Yes. Why would you think you couldn’t?”

“Because you’ve disapproved of me ever since I arrived. You told me--”

“I’m aware of what I said, and maybe I was a bit rash in my handling of the situation.

For that I apologize, but if we are to mate, we have to be open with one another.”

“Mama thinks I’m full of foolishness.”

“Your mother isn’t here right now. Tell me what’s in your heart, Zahara.”

She searched his face for a brief moment, then, seeming satisfied, nodded. “I’d like to see the world, too. I’ve read about so many countries and wonders. I’d hoped Mama would allow me some time to explore before our betrothal, but I’m the youngest, and my eldest 98 Eve Vaughn

sister, the alpha-in-waiting, is already mated and has borne cubs of her own. My brother constantly speaks of his adventures around the globe, but Mama has always kept me close.

She says...”

When Zahara faltered, he waited patiently for her to finish. From what he’d observed, the Nkruma alpha was an extremely opinionated bitch. His grandfather had told him how difficult the mating negotiations had been, and Paris had already seen more than enough of Nana these past weeks.

“Go on,” he prodded gently.

“She says I’m not strong enough to make it on my own in the world and that

sometimes she finds it hard to believe I’m her daughter.”

“How awful of her to say that to you.”

“I’m used to it. Mama loves me, I know, but she has to be tough. Our pack is small, so we must stick together. I think it’s one of the reasons she agreed to this alliance. She worried about the fate of our pack members, especially with the feral virus still out there. The added protection of Pack Kyriakis will ease her mind. This is my one chance to make her proud, to do something right in her eyes, but I’ve already made a mess of things haven’t I? You don’t like me.”

When Paris touched her shoulder, Zahara flinched. “That’s not true at all. Actually, I think we’ll fit quite well together. And I can take you to those places you wish to see.” He meant every word.

Her brilliant eyes lit up. “Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“Yes, really.”

“I’d like to travel with you very much.”

“There’s something I’d like from you, however.”

The wariness from earlier crept back into her eyes. “What’s that?”

Paris took a step closer and cradled her face in his hands; he couldn’t help noting the contrast of his paler hands against her dark skin. How was it that such a simple difference could be so beautiful? To immortals, something as inconsequential as skin color didn’t matter; that was purely a mortal concern -- and a silly one at that. The shifters’ only real prejudice was against half-breeds. Stuck between immortality and mortality, half-breeds were believed to be blights against the very shifter existence.

Zahara trembled as Paris brought his mouth down to meet hers. Then he pushed his

tongue past full lips to taste the sweetness within. Her flavor wasn’t what he’d expected it to be -- it was much better. Only when she placed her small hands against his chest,

surrendering to his ministrations, did Paris raise his head, knowing that if he didn’t, he’d lose control. “Ise omorfi. You’re so beautiful.”

She pulled away from him abruptly, her eyes flashing. “There’s more to me than my

looks. Mama says--”

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“Would you forget what your blasted mama says? It’s just you and me here.”

“But how will we deal with each other, when all I’ll ever be to you is some pretty,

empty-headed fool? I have hopes and dreams, but you’ll crush them.”

He gripped her arms and tugged her against his chest. “Zahara, I know we’ve gotten off to a bad start, but I’m not your enemy.”

“Then promise you’ll never hurt me.”

“I won’t,” he vowed.

She paused, staring at him intently as though considering his words; then she gave him that shy smile of hers, making his heart melt yet again. It was then he knew he’d love her forever.